The little things are what most of us remember while looking
back. I miss having a smoke at the local bar and restaurant. Where is my 15 cent
token I used to drop in the subway turn style? Swiping a card 5 times doesn't
seem to work. Cash never had interest fees or hidden penalties like credit cards
do. It's the little things I miss. The old coke machine and the hula hoop, a
payphone that worked with nickels, dimes, and quarters. Not a cell phone where
it is glued to the ears of those in car fatalities and crossing a street
oblivious to the red light. What happened to my transistor radio? Stations that
used to play music and songs we once understood and enjoyed. Oh, the little
things that are no more. I can remember when a handshake sealed a deal and not a
ten page document signed by a lawyer. Remember house calls by a doctor? No more
the personal attention we used to get. In a shoe box I opened that was forgotten
about, was an ankle chain and a photo of a girlfriend from twenty years ago. It
made me cry again how she left me and returned that special gift for her. I
found a rare phone booth that maybe was the last one on this planet. My patience
was waiting for the lady already in it to leave. Through the rain and fog and
our two broken down cars we recognized each other. It's funny how twenty years
seems like yesterday. Our smiles wiped away the rain and fog as we hugged and
kissed without saying a word. For some reason I had the shoe box in the back
seat of my car. We sat there together as I opened it and she looked at me with
wondering eyes. It fit perfectly on her left ankle as it did once before. We
found a coke machine on the way to our honeymoon. She pulled out an old
transistor radio from her purse as some old tunes played once again. Case in
point in a short love story about me and an old girlfriend, where something
brought us back together known as the little things....